Traffic Light
by The Walker of Dreams
Summary: They met the day his life ended. She gave it back to him, only to take it away once more. Yuffie/Vincent. AU/Dead Like Me Crossover. One-Shot.


Traffic Light

They met the day his life ended.

Not literally; he was still alive and well (save for his now missing left arm). His wife, his beloved Lucrecia, was not. The next day, when he left the hospital with a false limb and no hope in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a dark corner and die, he met _her_.

She was standing outside, looking at the hospital with horrifically sad eyes. The woman appeared to be in her twenties, with a worn face and body. Her hair was long and a dull brown, so dark it was almost black. There was a wrongness about her, like something was off.

When their eyes met, the sadness disappeared, replaced by a brilliant smile and shining eyes. There was something mischievous about her smile, an "I know something you don't" quality about it. It seemed too young to belong to her. She turned on her heel, and walked away.

The next day, and the day after that, and that, whenever Vincent came out from therapy, she was standing there, a lost soul. Every day, she'd grin at him and leave. For a month, this had continued, until things changed.

One day, instead of smiling and leaving, she had marched up to him, grabbed his fake arm, said "You're buying me a hot chocolate" and proceeded to drag him into the coffee shop across the street. His first instinct was to snap at her, yell at her to let go, and then run far far away. But this sudden change in routine, coupled with the oddity of the situation, stalled his retort.

So, they ended up sitting at a small table, facing each other. Feeling awkward, Vincent rubbed his 'new' arm absentmindedly as he warily studied the woman in front of him. Today, she looked tired (more so than usual), used up, on the verge of tears or death or both, as she flipped through the drink menu.

"Yup, definitely hot chocolate, with whipped cream and marshmallows and those little chocolate sprinkles on top. Not like they're actually sprinkles, but grated chocolate. I've never grated chocolate, have you?" She said, setting down the menu and looking directly at him. She spoke as if she was five years younger than her actual age.

He blinked, distracted by the sudden conversation and his thoughts. "No, I…Who are you? And why did you drag me here?" Vincent asked with slight anger in his usually monotone voice.

The woman grinned. "I am the great ninja Yuffie! And you're here because someone needs to buy me hot chocolate and I figured I trust some guy I don't know but see every day more than some guy I don't know and have never seen before. Plus I'm poor and you seem to have money." As Yuffie spoke, her body bounced up and down slightly as she looked at her surroundings. "Speaking of which, why are you at the hospital?"

And that moment, before he could reply or pick apart her inane logic, the waitress came. "Hi, I'm Jessie. What can I get for you?" She pulled out a pen and pad of paper, looking expectantly from one person to the other.

"Two hot chocolates, extra chocolate, extra marshmallows, and especially extra whipped cream please!" Yuffie declared, speaking before he could. The waitress nodded, and left. "Now! Don't think you got out of replying just because you got interrupted, mister. I still expect you to." She wagged her finger, an expression of mock seriousness on her face.

"Why is it that you expect me of me to tell you? Vincent snapped. "We do not even know one another, so why do you think I would possibly tell you my personal business?"

Her cheeks puffed up. "Ga-awd, someone's PMS-ing. You know my name, and I know yours, what more do you want? And if you keep this up, I'm marching out of here and you'll need to drink and pay for both drinks all by yourself and then won't you feel bad? Besides," Yuffie added, "I know how these things work."

He raised his eyebrows. "And how would you know?" If looks could kill, this odd woman would be six feet under by now.

"Because, you jerk, my sister died in that hospital. She ticked off the wrong person and got stabbed. So don't think," here she jabbed the air in front of him, "you're super special in your suffering."

Silence fell. Over the radio, a horrific rendition of a Christmas carol by some star was playing. Outside, it began to snow. Finally, he spoke. "My wife… she told me that she was…not happy with our marriage, and had begun seeing another man. We argued, and her boyfriend showed up. He was an unstable man, who went into a rage when he saw me yelling at her. He killed her, cut off my arm, and then took him own life. She was pregnant when it happed. Now, looking back, I am not even sure if the child was mine…"

Her eyes widened. "Oh my gawd, I reap-…read about that. That's sucks! What a jerk! And your wife too! Jeez, I'm sorry Vinnie, no wonder you were all mopey about it…"

Vincent paused, wincing slightly at the nickname. As an afterthought, he wondered how she knew his name, but realized it probably had been said several times through the media. "Yes, it was indeed unfortunate…" He gazed down at the table, asking himself for the millionth time why he was still here.

"You see! That's the difference between us!" Yuffie said loudly, as the drinks came. She grabbed one of the mugs and ate all the whipped cream in one slurp. Vincent picked up his delicately, setting it on the table. "See," the self proclaimed ninja said again with a full mouth, "with you, you're dwelling on it and it's eating you alive. With me, I'm just slightly insane cos of it". There was that odd, childish grin of hers again. "Vince, you need to let it go. It's been a month, yeah? As much as it sucks, she obviously didn't care about you so what does it matter?"

Standing up, Vincent glared coldly at her. "I won't stay here while you talk about Lucrecia like that." He then stormed out of the café.

Sighing, Yuffie swiped her finger through his whipped cream. "Gawds Yuffie, way to cheer yourself up, by talking to the most depressing guy on the planet." She lectured aloud. Looking fugitively around, Yuffie chose that moment to exit as well. She honestly didn't have the money to pay for the drinks (but she did feel bad about it).

The next day, Yuffie was waiting in the hospital lobby for him. She waltzed up to him, holding back a grin. "Vinnie, I am sorry about yesterday. But it's true, you gotta trust me on this one. You need re-join the rest of the world. I don't want to see you killing yourself over this."

"Why do you care?" Vincent asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "I need to atone; it's my fault she died."

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Gawds, there you do again. Come on, there's a snowman making contest in the park today, and I need the prize money." Once more, he found himself being dragged away by the energetic woman.

On and on, this new cycle went. She'd meet him, than drag him off for some contest or money making scheme. Yuffie never said why she needed the money, and Vincent eventually stopped asking.

After that first time, Yuffie never again spoke about her family, instead steering the conversation towards Vincent. Constantly, she bugged him about Lucrecia, reminding him it wasn't his fault, trying to get him to let go.

Surprisingly, the more time he spent with her, the more his late wife began slipping through his fingers. It was hard to have a bleak outlook one life when the person walking with you was constantly amazed, pointing out small wonders or anything else which caught their fancy.

They grew more comfortable around each other. She slowly grew better at not babbling so much; while he stopped put his hackles up as much whenever the conversation got uncomfortable.

On Christmas day, they were walking through the park together. "Sometimes Vinnie…" Yuffie said softly, following a cardinal's flight, "I think I only bugged you that day because it's me who needs to atone for my sins…"

Vincent frowned. He hadn't seen Yuffie get sad; mostly she got angry. He worried for her, sometimes. She had never mentioned where she lived, or what her job was.

But then she laughed, looking upwards. "Gawds, listen to me. I am spending too much time with you; I'm starting to sound like you too! Man, just get me a fake arm and an all black wardrobe, and we'll match."

"I always preferred you in blue." Vincent replied, ignoring the arm jib, as he had grown used to them. They reached the end of the path; in front of them was a busy road. As they neared the crossing, the light flickered to green.

Vincent went first; Yuffie hung back She pulled a small slip of yellow paper from her pocket, and looked at it with those sad eyes (the ones he hadn't seen for ages). "Vincent, I am sorry." Leaning forward, she kissed him gently on the cheek. With that simple touch, it felt like something important had been taken away, and was now safely in the hands of the ninja.

The light turned red as she stood straight, and his eyes widened in understanding as a truck barreled into him.

_(she gave him back his life, only to take it away from him)_

End

_Disclaimer: Dead Like Me and Final Fantasy VII don't belong to me._


End file.
